


Californian Sunday Mornings

by Dream_addicted



Series: Hollywood Undead One Shots [1]
Category: Hollywood Undead (Band)
Genre: Gen, Lazy Mornings, Mornings, One Shot, Pre-Band, Sexual Content, Shirtless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 22:45:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7593109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_addicted/pseuds/Dream_addicted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summer is the hottest time in California, so hot that it is almost impossible to survive it. People try to stay alive until night, when the temperatures go down, but sometimes even sleeping under a ventilator can be a problem, especially if one of your friends decide to come to your house and offer you a place in his new and silly band. </p><p>Matt is one of those people.<br/>Matt wants only to sleep, get up, masturbate and then return to sleep.</p><p>Matt won’t have what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Californian Sunday Mornings

**Tock tock.**

 

Matt rolled on his side, sheets falling on the floor as he started hugging his pillow as if it was his long time lost lover. It was August, so hot that even the ventilator above him was not enough to cool his body, the window to his right opened as much as it was possible. He was too poor to buy an air conditioning, so each summer he had to fight against the fucking sun and the stuffiness until Autumn, when the temperature would go down a bit and he was finally able to curl like an animal into his den made of warm sheets. For now, however, the only thing that California wanted to offer him was that bloody and exhausting mugginess. It was horrible. He could feel the skin all glutinous, his nose full of the smell of a young man sweating his own soul out.

 

**Tock tock.**

 

Matt was laying shirtless in his bed, wearing only a pair of tracksuit trousers without underpants: he preferred to sleep like that, with the sensation of being completely free and almost naked. Usually men say that they need pants in order to sleep, ‘cause otherwise they feel uncomfortable due to their balls and their cock always swinging around at every move. Bullshit. Matt loved his freedom of pants, he was able to masturbate or play with his dick due to the boredom any time he wanted.

A dark knot fell on his eyes as he turned again on his side, his cock following his motions and laying on his thigh.

His black hair were messy and pointed in all directions, in some parts glued to the skin of his head with sweat. It was disgusting. He should cut them one day or another, it was annoying the way them refused to be brushed.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden explosion of light. The sun decided to became stronger than before, illuminating his room like if the fucking angel Gabriel was ready to enter his house and announce him he was pregnant of God.

He didn’t know what time it was, probably midday, but it was also Sunday so he was allowed to sleep how much he wanted.

However…

 

**Tock tock.**

 

The young man frowned in his sleep. He didn’t want to get up, too tired due the heat, too tired due to life itself. He just wanted to stay there forever, lost in his dreams, sleeping and…

 

\- Matt, you faggot! C’mon, get the fuck out, we need to talk! –

 

He got up swearing and cursing so much obscenities, that if his father was still there and not at work he would have probably ended up with a slap on his face, so strong that his teeth would have trembled for years.

Anyway, even without the slap, he felt an awful taste in his mouth, and this worsened the situation even more.

He crossed the room and went to the front door, opening it like a fury, ready to kill whoever woke him up.

Aron stood there with a smirk on his face, amused by the friend’s reaction.

\- It’s wonderful to see ya, Matt. Especially almost naked, y’know? – joked the other as Matt realized that he was still with only his trousers on, his cheeks becoming red.

\- What the fuck do you want so early in the morning? – spat the curly boy, looking fiercely to the friend and trying to hide his timidity.

Aron was slender and skinny, so much that his arms seemed little sticks attached to his body, especially when he wore his characteristic sleeveless shirts. Matt was tempted every time to confess him that he looked awful with those type of clothes, that seeing him wearing them made him uncomfortable. It was not his fault: you see these broad and manly shoulders and then these tiny arms made only by skin glued to bones, with no muscles at all, and all you feel is a displeasing emotion rising in your chest. It was not Aron himself, he was a great guy after all, but his body was just strange, and looking at him was not exactly the most beautiful thing in the world.

Aron wasn’t much taller than Matt, with long black hair and a big smile always put on, ready to make fun of the first person he met, sometimes becoming annoying due to it rather than funny. Another thing of him that was really irritating was his bad habit of saying continuously “y’know” at the end of each sentence. Really, someone should tell him that soon or later. Apart from all these things, Aron was really a cool guy. He knew a lot of things about music and his dream was to become a rockstar. Matt was not so sure that it was an impossible dream for that kid, considering how much effort he put in everything.

\- I have something to say to you. Can I enter? – Aron asked kindly, unable to hide a certain eager in his voice.

\- Sure –

Matt was not even strong enough to tell him to go to fuck himself.

They moved into the living room, Matt’s soft cock swinging from side to side as he walked. The curled haired man fell on one of the two couches placed in the room and separated by a tea table. He leaned back his head and stretched his body, but then he remembered that he was shirtless and a certain shyness overwhelmed him, forcing the boy to sit and cover his own belly. The stupid tea table made in glass, covered with porn magazines and newspaper, reflected Aron’s image as the man sat down on the other couch. 

Another ventilator was moving on the ceiling, trying to cool a bit the air inside the room without success.

It was still hot as fuck.

Aron was smiling proudly, ready to start his speech as always.

\- So, man, I’ve got news for you. As you probably already know, me and Jorel started a duo on MySpace, The Kids, and it’s going well. We met Jeff…you should remember Jeff…and he joined us. We want to be a band. Ya understand? A BAND. But…y’know…we need more people, especially singers and musicians. I’m a bassist, Jorel is a guitarist jeff does the screaming…y’know…and now we need a drummer so that we’ll be a REAL band. You’re able to play the drums, right? –

If playing drums meant that Matt was able to beat some sticks in an almost random way on some drums, then yes, he was a fucking drummer.

\- I’m the best drummer in the hood, man – he spat out with arrogance.

Aron giggled happy and continued talking again about his plans.

Matt listened for some minutes but then the lazyness became too strong and his head started thinking about other things, nodding slowly to the friend but mentally spacing out.

Maybe what men say it’s true: pants are fundamental.

His balls were slightly squashed and this made him feel uncomfortable. He tried to move a little and change position, but that feeling stayed there, annoying him. The ventilator in that room was not good as the other one, so small drops of sweat were dripping on his skin, tracing a patter along his naked back and hipbones.

He moved again.

His balls were still uncomfortable.

Freedom has a price.

He returned listening to Aron.

\- It’s fuckin’ fantastic! So, d’ya want to join us? – Aron asked with an impatient look on his face.

It was clear that for the guy refuting was not even an option.

So naïve.

God, it was eleven in the morning, on Sunday! Was Aron really expecting an answer about being part of a band from a man that just woke up few minutes ago, was still completely confused, half naked, had his own balls squashed together and still had an awful taste in his mouth?

Holy shit, really, it was so disgusting that he felt like he had just swallowed an entire load of sperm.

 - Yeah…sure… - murmured the curly boy, nodding again.

Act like a boss, he told himself.

Act like a boss and he’ll go away.

He just wanted Aron to leave and him to return to bed, nothing more.

The slender boy shouted excited, starting to rumbling things about the new band name, the songs and some other things Matt was still too lazy to listen about. At the end, the only words he understood were the “y’know”s put between one sentence and another, but he smiled anyway as Aron got up from the sofa and left his house clapping hands happily.

The door shut behind Aron’s back with a pleasant sound.

That fucker was finally outside.

With a zombie walk Matt returned to his bed, falling on it with his back and looking sleepy to the ceiling.

The hotness was still there, he could feel the air of the ventilator moving slowly on his naked skin, making his sweat dry.

Some posters of female celebrities were hung up on the walls. Singers in obscene and sexy poses were looking seductively to him, lips parted and tongues swirling around imaginary penises.

He felt a flash of desire shaking his body, flowing into his abdomen like a wave.

He forgot immediately Aron and their meeting, all that shit about the band.

His world was now those girls.

He wanted to fuck one of them. Grab their boobs and bury his face in them. Use their wonderful throats not only for singing, but also for sucking.

Matt looked down to his trousers and saw something swelling proudly between his legs.

Oh well, since he was there awake…

He smiled happily while sneaking his hand under the cloth.

These are the standard Californian Sundays, he thought as he started jerking himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos, kids.
> 
> Love y'all.  
> DA


End file.
